A leisurely start to the morning, I finally have a chance to take a short break from my packed schedule the past 15 days. Millions of things to be done, dozens of people to say my goodbyes to, plenty of items to buy, but I can't do any of those things this very morning, so at this very moment, nothing matters anymore than having breakfast with my dad.

He's now on his handphone with a family friend, insisting on paying interest for the US money that he changed for me. One of my dad's eyes is closed all the time, due to some eyelid muscle problem, but the other eye is already enough to show all the warmth, wit and intelligence that I so admire. At this very moment, as he laughs into the phone, I resist the temptation to give his a big fat kiss on each of his tanned cheeks.

The surroundings at this kopitiam are so typical. The Ah-pek walking around with his newspapers rolled up under his right arm, holding a cup of kopi-o in his left hand, looking for a place to sit down for his daily ritual of coffee+newspaper. The Sikh guy sitting at the next table with his wife and two [rather good looking] sons has a red turban on his head and is talking animatedly about something. Just a short distance away, a little Chinese boy is throwing a tantrum, stamping feet and all. His Filipino [I think] maid gives him a tight slap before dragging the wailing boy away.

I don't want to get all so soppy or patriotic, but I'm amazed with how such a normal morning and just a short little moment is all it takes to start appreciating the beauty of the Singaporean lifestyle. Thank god, just in time too.